Lore of the Planet
by Cynical Eye
Summary: You have heard both stories separately. Now, hear them from a man who has lived through it all. Based on "Schism," by Mengde.


'Ello. I dare say you don't know me! I have been a long time fan of Final Fantasy 7 (as well as 10), and the fiction round these here parts. I usually don't find massive AU (lawlz 'Cloud and Seph are teenagers in high school yaiompregslash!') to my liking, but was incredibly impressed by… well… everything the author Mengde writes. On that note, this little vignette is based upon his epic "Schism," a wonderfully written 7/10 crossover. If crossovers don't suit you… well, then maybe you should know the developers of FF7 and FFX(-2) pretty much think of X-2 as the prequel to 7. So… ya know… shove it.

Also, this was inspired by a piece of failed free-writing I did.

Copyright Square-Enix etc. And copyright to Mengde for his storyline.

**Lore of the Planet**

By: Tequila Man

--

I have lived a long time. Although, perhaps the term "live" is a little subjective. I have _existed_ for far too long. To say I am immortal is, once again, a futile attempt to describe what I really am. Indeed, I have met the ageless man in crimson before, and our versions of eternal life are completely different.

I was there. The world of Gaea was not always such, and in the time before the Calamity, was called Spira. Before that, an endless war had been waged between two nations, resulting in untold suffering. Suffering which resulted in… in…

It's all so foggy, now. I struggle to recall the exact details. Great have my wanderings been, and full is my head with the knowledge of the world. It seems all I ever have time for these days are my Chocobo herds. They are easy to raise, here in the north, where natural selection breeds strength.

Where was I?

Ah, yes. I am old. Old beyond the depth of the word. Come, sit by the fire in this quaint cottage of mine. I will tell you of the trials of the Planet. It's Lore, in unabashed truth, written down by me, the Sage, as the locals have come to call me.

--

_When man becomes the builder of Fear,_

_The war between countries will flare._

Before the coming of Sorrow, there were two nations, engaged in a war of infinite sadness. I was there, as both a political adviser and records keeper for Zanar… Zanar… it's name escapes me. But, I was there. And the greater of the nations built Fear, the most horrible monstrosity ever wrought by the hands of mortals. Fortunately, this weapon could never be used. For a time, the extermination of the Planet was averted; if only momentarily. The builders of Fear won against my nation, and I struggle to remember what happened on the day they attacked. I remember pain, and the sense of my thirst for knowledge being… unfinished. Regardless, struggling to remember the memories I have lost is futile, as I have found.

_Against the power of Sorrow,_

_Will man suffer for brief eternity._

For so long did I watch my fellow man drown in the Sorrow of their war, generation upon generation sacrificing loved ones in the vain attempt to stop the Sorrow their forefathers had wrought. I can only recall one word for this time: Yevon. What it holds I can not say, but I know its importance as I know the way a carob nut helps strengthen young Chocobos. And so, did man suffer for the Sorrow of Yevon.

_When the Sorrow is gone Fear returns,_

_To destroy the Calm heart of the world._

Somehow, a dream defeated this Sorrow. How is that, you ask? Once again, the details escape me. I only know the statement as truth. A dream destroyed the Sorrow of the Planet, and, for so short a time I recall it as the blinking of an eye, there was relative Calm. But, the machinations of the old Fear rose, fueled by the hate of the dead. So great was this hatred for all life, did the spirit of the dead man escape death and almost cause desolation.

_Only man combined with itself,_

_Can bring the weapon of Fear to its knees._

And so, man did. A Gull did it, at least, that's what I know. In the process of making a dream real, the Gull united all of the Planet under a single banner. Alliances were formed, and the world entered a period of unprecedented success. Man combined with machines created a near-perfect world, and it was beautiful. I clearly see its beauty, even now.

_On the ashes of Fear and Sorrow,_

_Calamity descends._

Time passed. A great shadow fell across the sky. This creature, born in the darkness between the stars, crashed violently into the Planet, spinning us like a top. Many died. Climates changed. Man survived, somewhat. The Calamity spread its angelic death across the land, and man fought man, and monsters battled everything. The guise of love was used to destroy the defenders. Mothers and children, husbands and wives, burned.

_Man will lose itself,_

_Stumble in its path._

As the Calamity crept everywhere, the population of fighters split. The defenders who kept arms called themselves the Cetra, while the ones who hid like cowards among the damp caves and dense jungles, retained the undeserving title of Man. Woe to the defenders who fell against the horrible Calamity.

_Twice will the Useless Light be questioned,_

_Twice will the Black Light fall._

I remember twice the ultimate spells were cast. They are separated by time, but I know this: both times did the Useless Light fail to completely destroy the Calamity. The Black Light, hovering for so many days, was controlled by the invader, and was barely stopped by the pure white glow. A woman of green and blue vision stopped the first Black Light, and sealed the Calamity inside its original place, far to the north. The second time, a man named for the sky, aided by a Cetra remnant, defeated the Calamity and its heir.

_The great sleep forever,_

_The meek strive for life._

The first summoning of the Light was marked by the almost complete disappearance of the Al-Bhed… wait… the Cetra. I am old, don't you see? I get confused. The defenders of the world fell, too destroyed by the battle, and they slept the honorable sleep forever, buried in the Planet they fought to save. Man, the barely civilized creature that existed in hiding, came out of its den, and retook the world in the name of their cowardice.

_An angel becomes the Calamity,_

_And dies in the depths of the Planet._

A warrior from the city of sleepless nights becomes the master of Calamity; he masters, so is he mastered. Challenged once again, the Calamity falls as the Black Light is destroyed a second time. Down in the Planet, beneath the wound of the north, the man of sky destroyed the shell of the Calamity and the master. The world rejoiced, only to see that the destruction of the enemy had left them sick. Becoming a single power again, man set aside their hate and rebuilt their world. But, it did not last.

_Calamity is split and reborn,_

_In the shape of Horsemen Three._

These horsemen, carrying blades on their backs of silver hair, sought to Reunite with the power of death. The master of Calamity is split among them, each a piece. When Calamity was found, the world trembled as it warped everything, even the magical beasts that had once been used to protect the Planet. Like before though, the sky-blue warrior rose to challenge.

_Three will surrender to the one,_

_One to the might of the failed man._

At this point, the words I wrote are hazy in my own mind. What I can recall is the master of Calamity fell to the power of a man who failed to be his own memories. What sense you make of these words are yours, and yours alone. Do not concern me with extra details. I'm full, I would think.

_The ground rises on the ruins of the stream of life,_

_The evil bested by that which is eternal._

The crimson immortal finds his place as the army of the insane man rises to destroy the Planet, using the Omega and Chaos the Planet bore to defend itself and carry on. Thwarted by the very Chaos they sought to use, the army of the Immaculate fell. The dirge of the crimson's gun sang a sad melody; many died. Finally, however, the world rested, at peace.

_Calamity travels through the ages,_

_To begin the wheel of Death anew._

It is inevitable. I have seen it.

--

That is my tale. I'm a bit long-winded, I know. Now, I must go. The Chocobo herds are nearing. And the Chocobo Sage must not be absent, lest they starve or be caught in a blizzard.

Goodbye, and remember:

Thus have you heard the story of Maechen, the Chocobo Sage.


End file.
